


got me weak in the knees (doctor, please)

by wartransmission



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Yuuri as a Physician in the GPF AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: For as long as he’s known himself, Viktor Nikiforov has never been the type for gossip.That being said, it was a surprising thing that he got intrigued at all by their resident physician.Request: Yuuri becomes a Medical Physician for Figure Skaters and works during competitions. He works as the Grand Prix's Assist. Head MP because he loves watching how beautiful these people skate, esp. Viktor, who he is a fan of. Yuuri is known to the skaters to be a plain yet patient doctor who can even placate Yurio. One day, Viktor decides to visit the clinic to drop off some documents for Yakov and finally sees the infamous Dr. Katsuki working with his hair slicked back and glasses on.





	1. Chapter 1

For as long as he’s known himself, Viktor Nikiforov has never been the type for gossip.

It wasn’t for a lack of acquaintances, or trying, either. From Chris alone, he could harvest gossip lasting him decades into the future with all of the Swiss man’s connections- what more the gossip he could get from Milochka, or Zhora, or everyone else in his _own_ rink?

That being said, it was a surprising thing that he got intrigued at all by their resident physician. He isn’t blind, nor _that_ horribly oblivious- he knows that he has a tendency to disregard everyone else within his general vicinity if they aren’t in any way relevant to him or his skating. If the person is barely a challenge skating-wise, he has an awful tendency of forgetting names and faces too, which his rink mates can (in the most exasperated tone they can muster) attest to.

And yet, here he is: documents in one arm, media-smile pasted on his face, one arm posed to knock on the supposedly unassuming physician’s clinic door.

Why, exactly, did he decide to do this?

Ah, that’s right.

 _Chris_.

 _“Careful not to be taken in, Viktor,_ ” the man had said, sly grin making the corners of his lips curl upwards, “ _that man’s a dangerous one. He looks more on the plain side for most days, but on some others- oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise._ ”

And he had been curious, because _why_ would Chris say that? Chris, the man who boasts of his sexual appeal off and on the ice, actually calling another man _dangerous_ like that- how could he _not_ be intrigued, even if just for a little bit?

And there was Yura too- little Yuri, still so temperamental and irritable, actually _mellowed_ by a fraction of a minute when he had come back from a brief check up with the physician. He had been grumpily holding back a smile, as if it _pained_ him to hold the expression at all, and everyone had turned to look at each other inside the rink because _that_ was certainly a change from their usually cranky Ice Tiger.

Surely, there must be _something_ to the man?

So, here he is, like a marionette with its strings tugged by an incomprehensible, all-powerful force, standing as casually as possible before the clinic door of their resident physician. _Yuuri Katsuki, MD_ , reads the name plate on the door, and he nods to himself as a reminder.

He knocks, three times.

“Come in!” a voice from within calls out, muffled only slightly by the thick door in  between them.

He turns the knob with his free hand, cheerily greeting the physician with, “I came by to drop some documents from Yakov!”

“Ah, please put that-”

 _Crash_.

Viktor blinks at the sudden mess of clipboard, glasses, and papers on the floor. “I’ll get that for you,” he offers, smiling as he comes closer to the man- only to halt when the other fervently waves a hand to keep Viktor back, as though he would only be a bother if he were to help.

His chest twinges, just a bit.

_Ow._

“It’s fine, fine,” the man- Dr. Katsuki, he assumes- insists, pink flush rising to his cheeks as he crouches to grab his glasses. His hand is noticeably shaking as he slips the thick, half-rimmed frames back onto his face. “I’m just clumsy today,” he laughs, definitely _not_ as okay as he’s trying to appear as he goes back to gathering up his papers and clipboard.

“That’s not what they told me,” Viktor muses, smile quirking at the corner of his lips when the man visibly freezes where he is. He continues, intent on understanding just _what_ it was that caught Chris’s eye, “Chris, in particular, tells me you’re charming. I haven’t heard word of you being clumsy.”

“Well, now I’m concerned about his eyesight,” Dr. Katsuki says, tiny smile playing on his lips as he finally stands and settles the mess of papers in his arms. “It’s bad enough as it was, but to see things that aren’t there…”

“You are rather cute,” Viktor says when the doctor makes no motion to say more. He blinks when Dr. Katsuki starts making a small noise, as though he’s- _choking_? “Are you okay?” he asks, feeling concerned. Was it something he said?

“I- um,” Dr. Katsuki stutters, hugging his clipboard and papers close to his chest as he raises his other hand to run through his hair- and _oh_ , Viktor can kind of see what Chris meant with this one. _Cute_ , _but dangerous, huh?_

“Yes?” he asks, smiling cheerily as he cocks his head to one side.

Dr. Katsuki clears his throat, one hand to his mouth, before looking up at Viktor and saying, voice firmer now than before, “Could you pass me the papers?”

Viktor blinks. “What?” he asks.

“The papers?” Dr. Katsuki repeats, looking mildly confused and somewhat irritated as he sets aside his own documents and gestures with one hand to the stack of papers in Viktor’s one arm. “You said they were from Yakov.”

“Ah, yes,” Viktor says, feeling quietly winded at the sudden change in attitude within the other man. He comes closer to hand over the papers, notices how the man avoids brushing fingers with him, and barely holds back the frown threatening to show on his lips. He asks, because he can’t help it, “Did I say something wrong?”

Dr. Katsuki is the one to blink in confusion at him now. “What?”

“I understand that I can be a bit insensitive without meaning to be,” Viktor says, remembering the countless times Milochka and Chris had told him off for it. “If I said something wrong-”

“ _Oh_ ,” Dr. Katsuki breathes, and Viktor finds himself feeling oddly lighter at the sight of him doing so, “no, no! I’m sorry, there’s nothing wrong with what you said. I’m just-”

“Nervous?” Viktor offers, smiling gently when Dr. Katsuki offers his own smile of relief in return.

“Yes,” he says, nodding his head- and was it strange, how he found the tiny motion cute? “I’m a big fan, and I didn’t expect you to come here.”

Viktor is sure that his smile is obviously brighter at this point. “Oh?”

Dr. Katsuki flushes bright red, the color making him look even more charming as he hugs the new papers tighter to his chest. He says, “I’ve been watching you since I was younger, and I got into this kind of work because of you. That injury you got, that one time after the second Grand Prix-” and somehow, he reddens further, “I got so worried, and I thought- I wanted to help.”

“And here you are,” Viktor says, smile widening when Dr. Katsuki nods, smiling softly. “I’m glad you managed to come so far.” Then, more gently, perhaps somewhat fond if he could feel such a thing for a stranger, “I’m glad I could bring you here, too.”

“I’m glad too,” Dr. Katsuki says, smile so sweet and warm that Viktor finds himself- maybe, just _maybe-_ taken in. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Do I live up to expectations?” Viktor teases, laughing when the doctor sputters in turn. “They do say that you should never meet your heroes- and I already gave such a bad impression, before.”

“No, no, that definitely wasn’t your fault at all,” Dr. Katsuki protests, clearly intent on proving him wrong, “it’s just- I’m no good, when it comes to socializing. It’s why I prefer to keep to myself.” And that’s clear, from what Viktor can see; just from the few minutes of their meeting, Dr. Katsuki has been making sure to keep his personal bubble as far away from Viktor’s as possible, as though getting any nearer would pop it and send him into a panic.

“That’s such a shame, though,” Viktor says, coming nearer, and finding himself surprisingly pleased when the doctor lets him. “For you to deprive people of your charming self,” he says, voice trailing away into brief silence as he takes another step closer, “it’s such a waste, isn’t it?”

For a moment, there is only their breathing to fill the silence, then-

Dr. Katsuki scrambles back, a squeak-like sound escaping his mouth as he presses himself into the far wall.

 _Well, then_.

Viktor is so very confused as to how he should see the man ( _Cute? Reserved? Charming? All of the above?),_ but he’s rather certain that _that_ reaction was an intensely wary one. He feels a tiny bit hurt, too, because he was _clearly_ flirting- and it’s something he does for fun, more often than not- and yet, to be rejected like _that?_ Wasn’t that too much?

_But why? I didn’t even touch him, and for him to stay away like that…_

_Was I that repulsive to him?_

_But he said that he was a fan._

_That doesn’t mean anything if he doesn’t like me as a person, though._

_But-_

“You got too close, I,” Dr. Katsuki sputters, a hand moving to push up his glasses as he forces himself to relax where he is ( _why won’t he come closer?_ ), “I got nervous, sorry.”

“It’s fine!” says his mouth, even when his heart says, _Am I not good enough?_ He adds, because he doesn’t want to come off as too forward, “Dr. Katsuki, it was my fault for being too familiar with you.”

“Yuuri is fine,” Dr. Katsuki insists, and-

 _Ah, I am so weak_.

He smiles again, a little brighter this time. “Yuuri, then. And you can call me Viktor, yes?”

“Right,” Dr. Katsuki- _Yuuri_ agrees, shy smile playing on his lips as he sets aside on one table the documents Viktor had handed over to him. “Viktor.”

He most definitely smiles a bigger smile at that. And, because he’s learned his lesson, he prefaces a question he wants to ask with, “If it’s not too forward…”

Yuuri tilts his head to one side, and Viktor finds himself in an unusual internal conflict of whether he finds Yuuri _cute_ or _tempting_. “Mm?” Yuuri hums.

_Both. Both, definitely._

“Could I have your number? Just in case I need you,” he says while holding out his opened phone, perhaps adding a subtle wink at the end just to tease him.

It’s not so subtle, going by the squeak that Yuuri makes in reply.

(His heart probably wasn’t even planning on being subtle in the first place, what with that _something_ inside him finding interest in the oddly complex man named Katsuki Yuuri.

Ah, well. If Yuuri doesn’t mind his blatant flirting- if he actually _flirts back_ \- then he would, most definitely, not bother to keep himself subtle.)

“Um, sure!” Yuuri says, smile a little wobbly on his face as he takes Viktor’s phone. He inputs his number with shaky fingers, before handing the phone back to Viktor with a tiny, sweet smile. “Here you go,” he says.

Viktor is certain that his grin could beat the sun in its brightness, but he really, really does not care. He opens Yuuri’s contact details and opens up the message option, swiftly typing up a short note before sending it off with a wide smile Yuuri’s way. Yuuri, in turn, smiles back in clear confusion, before blinking in understanding when his phone buzzes impatiently in his hand.

“What,” Yuuri begins, voice growing soft as he squints down at the screen.

Then, he bites his lower lip in silence, flush gradually rising once more on his face.

“ _You are really very cute, Yuuri. I can see why Chris thinks you’re charming_ _♥_ ” reads the message, because Viktor has never had any self-control when it comes to things (and people, though this is the first time he’s ever had to _try_ with his own power) he likes.

To his surprise (and _pleasure_ ), Yuuri doesn’t bother to reply verbally, and instead types back,

“ _If there’s anyone between the two of us who’s charming, it wouldn’t be me_.”

Viktor smiles, bright and warm and giddy as he holds and squeezes his phone close to his chest.

(Quietly and to himself, he thinks of the apology he’ll need to prepare for Chris.

He didn’t listen to the man’s warnings, after all.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri POV this time!
> 
> [pls forgive me for any mistakes- it's 12am and I have work tomorrow (later??) lmfao,,,, //RIP me]

If there’s one thing that Yuuri never thought he’d learn about his favorite skater, it was that the man was _delicate_.

He knew and understood that knowing a celebrity as they are on the screen is vastly different from knowing them in person, but this thing with Viktor is something else entirely. From that one text at the very start of their tentative friendship- and Yuuri didn’t even know if that was the right thing to call this, since it seemed a tad conceited to assume friendliness just because someone shares their number with you- began an influx of texts at random points of the day. All of them were a variety of Viktor worrying about his health, worrying about a bruise, worrying about a _hangnail_ , worrying about-

well, just about _everything_.

He went from never seeing the man during the beginning of Skate America to seeing him as often as is unnecessarily possible. _Unnecessary_ , because Viktor was, and is, grace on ice; Yuuri has no idea why Viktor would need to consult with him so often when he’s barely even managed to injure himself like the other skaters have. Yuuri knows, of course, that Viktor has had his share of injuries, but this? Having the man call him so often in just _one day_ to ask him if it was really okay for his knees to make those clicking sounds is _ridiculous_.

Has his idol always been this sensitive? How could he have not noticed before, when he’d first begun his residency during the previous GPFs?

_Is this what it’s like, to have a friend finally begin opening himself up to you?_

Yuuri sighs, rubbing at the creases between his eyebrows.

Friend or not, _idol_ or not, Yuuri frankly thinks this is too much, even for him. He admires Viktor, practically adores him even (which Yuuko can attest to, as she’s known him since childhood), but his patience can only last for so long with a man who tries to take up so much of his time when he could be using that time to _consult_ with _actual patients_.

(Had Yuuri been any younger, still so enamored and bewitched by Viktor, he’d have been jumping and squealing in excitement at having so much of his idol’s time spent with just _him_.

But Yuuri is twenty-four, having endured stressful years of training as a physician, and his patience for matters outside of the clinic is far, far too short, even if he _does_ like Viktor.)

 _Bzz. Bzz_.

Yuuri sighs, low and soft and only vaguely affectionately exasperated as he slips a hand into his coat pocket to check his phone.

Predictably, the sender of the most recent message is Viktor.

Not quite as predictably, it’s Viktor asking if he wants to eat lunch with him.

(It’s not so much the request to eat together as it is the _requesting_ part that is so surprising. Viktor has a tendency to just drag him along whenever, which is why Yuuri has started avoiding his own clinic during lunch hours to keep Viktor from invading his private time.

He likes the man, he really does, but he can only _take so much_ before he implodes from how _overwhelming_ he is as a person.)

Yuuri blinks, confused, then rubs gently at his eyes to make sure that he’s seeing the words right.

The text reads,

 _“Yuuri! Are you free for lunch? Let’s eat together! ))_ ”

The words don’t change, and Yuuri frowns. He wants to ask what happened to Viktor’s rink mates and why he thinks it’d be a good idea to eat lunch with Yuuri, wants to ask just _why_ it is he’s asking instead of _doing_ now, but.

But.

His heart is, and perhaps has always been, weak for men named Viktor Nikiforov. He’s already rejected the man so many times; surely, he could grant him this one time? Maybe Viktor was left alone, and felt lonely, and he didn’t have anyone else he was comfortable with to eat lunch with. It would be the nice thing to do to grant Viktor this one time, right?

He texts back,

“ _I’m free, but I already have my lunch packed. Do you still want to eat together?_ ”

Barely even a minute later, he gets a reply, which reads,

“ _Of course!_ _♥_ ”

Yuuri feels his cheeks warm at the sight of that tiny digital heart, even when he knows that it’s just how Viktor usually texts people. Because surely, there would be no reason for Yuuri to be special enough to be the only one to receive digital hearts from Viktor, right?

Right.

He tries to text back, but quickly gets interrupted when Viktor texts him with, “ _Just wait there, I’ll eat with you at your clinic!_ ”

His nose wrinkles at the image of Viktor forcing himself to settle with eating at a mildly cramped clinic just because that’s where Yuuri is. He texts back, “ _Don’t you want to eat somewhere else? People can call me on my phone if they need me._ ”

Viktor texts his reply, “ _I know, but I don’t want to trouble you!_ ”

Yuuri stifles a snort of laughter at that. _Doesn’t want to trouble me, huh,_  he thinks to himself, remembering the multitudes of texts Viktor had _not_ bothered him with (read: it did, actually, bother him) just the day before.

Still, for as much as Viktor can be a bit clingy (and what a surprise that was, when Yuuri had first realized it), Yuuri _does_ like him. For all the man’s faults, he’s still as charming, kind, and amazing as Yuuri has always thought he was. Perhaps a little less graceful in his charm, going by how embarrassingly excited he can get whenever Yuuri compliments him in return, but mostly charming all the same.

Now, if only Yuuri could figure out just _why_ and _how_ Viktor became so attached to him.

What had he even _done_ to get this much of Viktor’s attention?

“Yuuri!”

He blinks, smile growing on his lips before he can help it when he sees Viktor panting and smiling widely by the doorway of his clinic. “You got here fast,” he says, the smile on his face wry and amused as he waves a hand for Viktor to come into his clinic. “You didn’t have to run, Viktor. I would have waited.”

“I know, but I wanted to get here sooner,” Viktor retorts, his smile unwavering as he comes in and shuts the door behind him. “I didn’t want you to run from me again,” he adds as he sits on the chair across from Yuuri, the words thoughtless and frank coming from his mouth that Yuuri can’t stop himself from flinching. He flinches because it’s true, and he can’t deny it; he’s been avoiding Viktor for as much as he can because he feels so overwhelmed by him.

And Yuuri is a horrible, terrible, _awful_ person for making Viktor suffer like this.

Why couldn’t he just be like Viktor, who’s nice to his fans even when they’re being particularly impolite and demanding?

“Ah,” he says, feeling a bit like he’s outside his own body as he looks down at his hands, “I’m sorry.” The words taste like cotton in his mouth, uncomfortable and fuzzy in his head, and he only vaguely registers Viktor coming closer because of it.

As is the routine when he feels humiliated or brought down by something, he becomes like this. He’s fine, physically, but his mind feels like its underwater and he’s _drowning_. He just wants to close himself off the whole world, just for a moment, and it’s painful because he can’t allow himself to do that. He’s a physician, a person on whom someone’s health is dependent on, and he can’t afford to feel so horribly about little- or big- mistakes.

But he does.

He always does.

(How had he gotten so good at hiding how he feels, anyway?)

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks, concern clear in his bright blue-green eyes as he furrows his brows.

He swallows. Asks, trying for a weak smile, “Yes?”

Viktor smiles at him, as though trying to offer comfort, and says, “Can I tell you a story?”

He blinks, twice in quick succession, then nods. He’s confused as to where this came from, but it’s a good enough distraction from the embarrassment welling up in his chest that he’ll take it gratefully.

“You’ve watched me skate,” Viktor begins, and he nods, because that’s true. “You’ve probably watched me train too, before, when I was allowed to post short clips of my routines on Instagram.” Blushing, he still nods, because he can’t deny it at this point. Viktor knows him a little too well now to accept any of his half-truths. “But do you know how I can get, when I’m focused on creating my programs?”

A pause.

Yuuri shakes his head, because he doesn’t. He’s a big fan, but never enough to deliberately stalk all sorts of social media for extremely personal details on Viktor. He’s satisfied, has always been, for the little bits he could get from published interviews in magazines and TV shows.

(And now, he knows that Viktor is: a morning person, not a very good cook, fluent in three languages, has a short attention span, forgetful, oblivious, and more. So, so much more than he ever thought he’d get, and it’s getting so hard, sometimes, trying to negotiate the truth of his idol, Viktor Nikiforov, being a person who likes sitting with him and talking to him just _because_.

It’s so hard, trying not to like him as _more_ than just a favorite figure skater.)

“I close everyone off. My smile goes on auto-pilot,” and at this Viktor smiles, genuine and warm, having noticed the flash of understanding in Yuuri’s eyes, “and all my focus is poured into creating the perfect choreography that can surprise my audience. I tend to ignore my rink mates then, even if outwardly it looks like I’m paying attention.” He pauses here, hands fiddling for a bit with the plastic container on his lap toting his food, before saying, “Have you ever felt something like that, Yuuri?”

He blinks.

Breathes,

and says,

“Often, when I was still a resident,” he swallows, pauses, throat dry with nervousness. Begins again with, “I would get told off for not having the right kind of bedside manner with my patients. I was too,” he trails off, gaze on the floor even when he feels Viktor watching him, “distant. Too cold, and clinical. I didn’t know how they wanted me to act. I was doing my job right, but it never seemed like it was enough just because I couldn’t be as gentle as I should be.”

He breathes in, speaks more softly, “I always felt like I wasn’t good enough. Even if I was doing my work properly, if my patients and attending physician weren’t satisfied, then what’s the point?” He pauses, closes and opens his eyes again as he releases a short, shaky breath. “I would close myself off, because of that. I always felt like they were intruding on my feelings, who I am, because of all the things they would say. I hated it.”

The silence spreads out for a while, oddly comforting despite the tension in his last words, before Viktor starts speaking again.

He says,

“You’re more than good enough, Yuuri. I’m sure everyone else, even your attending physician, thinks so too.”

A few seconds of silence.

Then, Viktor asks, “What do you want me to be to you?”

Yuuri doesn’t respond, not quite sure just what it is that Viktor’s getting at yet.

“A father figure?”

He hums his disagreement, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment in time. “No,” he mutters.

“A brother, then? A friend?”

He frowns, an unsettled feeling growing in his chest as he considers them both. Neither seems like the right option, both of them sounding like personas that Viktor is willing to put on just to make him feel comfortable. He doesn’t want that.

Then, like a quiet bomb being dropped, Viktor asks, “Then, your boyfriend. I’ll-”

“No, no!” he blurts out, feeling horrified at the sudden burst of emotion in his voice that had forced him to interrupt Viktor, but not regretting it enough to settle back down into silence. He _needs_ to say this, needs to let Viktor know:

“I want you to stay who you are, Viktor!” he says, passion somehow pouring from his words as he clutches a fist close to his chest. “I’ve always looked up to you,” and at this he looks away, feeling the shame niggling at his heart at how he’d avoided Viktor so often the past few days, “I ignored you because I didn’t want you to see my shortcomings.”

He looks up then, somewhat nervous for what he’ll see on Viktor’s face, but finding himself surprised when Viktor looks back at him with bright, shining blue-green eyes.

He looks _happy_.

Yuuri doesn’t understand how he managed to put that look on Viktor’s face, but if he could, he would do it all over again, for as many times as possible.

“Okay,” Viktor says, holding out a hand as though to start an agreement. He’s smiling, so warm and gentle and _different_ from the smile Yuuri has seen from countless interviews, and Yuuri feels his heart beat a little faster, a little harder.

Viktor says, “Just for you, I’ll be me,” and Yuuri finds himself clasping the hand Viktor has held out, quietly awed at the calloused and warm touch of Viktor’s palm. “You better be prepared,” Viktor warns, and Yuuri finds himself smiling, because Viktor is smiling too.

“I’ll try my best to be,” he says in turn, attempting a teasing tone and trying to hide the wonder in his voice as Viktor squeezes the hand he has caught in his own grasp.

Somehow, this feels like something so much more, something better, than the friendship he’d hoped he could have with Viktor.

Quietly, in a prayer for hope, he thinks to himself,

_I hope I never have to let this go._


	3. Chapter 3

Things change, somehow.

Viktor notices this when he prepares his eleventh text of the day for Yuuri from the rink side, intent on getting as much time as he could talking to the man, and finds himself already receiving a message before he’s even bothered to reply to the previous one.

 

> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Why do you keep texting me so much, Viktor?

Viktor blinks, finding an unfamiliar kind of heat seeping into the skin of his cheeks at being called out so frankly by the man he’s attracted to. He was obvious, he knew as much, but he didn’t think Yuuri would just up and call him out on it. _Especially_ considering how oblivious the man usually is to his advances.

What could he even say in reply that wouldn’t have the man running as far away from him as possible?

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Because i like talking to you, obviously! ))
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Are you sure you’re not just taking advantage of the fact that you know one of the GPF’s physicians personally?
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Is it a bother? i can stop, if that’s what you want…
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> No, no! It’s fine. I’m just teasing. And I was curious, since none of the other skaters text me this much.

 

Viktor’s lips quirk up into a smile, free hand coming up to cover his mouth as he stifles a tiny giggle at Yuuri’s acknowledgment of his appreciation for their little talks. It was a small thing, true- but coming from _Yuuri_ , it certainly means a lot more.

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Is it so surprising that i like texting you? you’re fun to talk with )))
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I doubt that. I’m sure I’m not all that entertaining as company.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> You don’t need to be entertaining to make me happy, though?
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Are you always like this?

 

Viktor cocks his head to one side, confused at the meaning of Yuuri’s question.

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Always like what?
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Ah, never mind. It’s nothing.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Yuuuuuri (( tell me?? you wouldn’t have mentioned it if it wasn’t anything important to you
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I just…you’re very flirty. I was wondering if you’re always like this with everyone.

 

Viktor’s eyes pop wide open in surprise, his free hand going to his mouth as he tries to digest the fact that Yuuri has just called him out- _twice_ now- for flirting. _Oops_? he thinks, a quiet kind of embarrassment bubbling in his chest as he types his reply.

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> I only flirt with cute boys, though ♥

 

_There, smooth enough._ Thankfully, Yuuri had asked him through text; otherwise, he’d have fumbled his way through using actual words because of the shame filling up the spaces of his lungs.

 

> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Ah. Well, alright then.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> And you are a very cute boy, yuuri!! ♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> ??!?!?

 

Viktor doesn’t bother to stifle his delighted laugh at the mishmash of punctuation marks Yuuri types in reply. Was it really so surprising, to have him flirt outright? He would feel offended that Yuuri would think him a natural flirt towards just anyone, but honestly- it’s just so cute, that Yuuri could be so shocked at his frankness with his feelings for him.

 

> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Um. Thank you, I guess.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> You guess??? was i not clear enough?? do i need to text you a compliment again???
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> No! Once is fine really
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Well, either way, i wouldn’t mind reminding you as often as possible that i think youre very cute ♥♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> You’re…very honest, Viktor. It’s kind of embarrassing.

 

Viktor makes a sound of dismay similar to that of a kicked puppy’s whine (which he would know the sound of, unfortunately) at Yuuri’s reply. He thought that Viktor was embarrassing? Did he not like the compliments?

Has Viktor been sabotaging his own self this whole time in getting Yuuri’s affection?

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> (((((( why? do you not like it when i give you compliments? is it too much??
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Kind of? I mean, I appreciate it, but I don’t think I deserve most of it.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> ?????
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I think it’s sweet, that you’re so nice, but you don’t have to be _that_ nice to me. I don’t mind if you don’t compliment me so much.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> But i like doing it? i’m not forcing myself to say anything, if that’s what you think i’m doing! i genuinely think you’re beautiful, yuuri.
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I’m a man, though…
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> So? can a man not be beautiful nowadays? i recall you calling my skating beautiful just the other day
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> ?!? You heard that?!
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Of course!! i have a very keen ear when it comes to people i like ♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> You mean you have a keen ear whenever someone says something about you.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> I meant what i said!!                        
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Sure, Viktor. Whatever you say.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> I can’t see you, but you sound like you don’t believe me, yuuri!! how mean ((
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Hahaha ♥

 

Viktor clutches at his chest, a small, gleeful noise escaping his mouth right before he bites his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to sound calm. Which he is not, in any way, whatsoever. How could Yuuri just _do_ this to him, with no warning at all? It’s such a small thing, such a tiny, _insignificant_ thing, coming from anyone else, but from Yuuri (who avoids using emoticons and the like)-

it’s a bit like being granted a piece of Yuuri’s heart that he would not, under any circumstances, offer to just anyone (if he would offer it to _anyone at all_ ).

Viktor is so, so besotted with this man, and he can’t even do anything to help himself.

(It’s a wonderful feeling, if not a little terrifying, because of how _new_ everything feels to him.)

 

> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> Yuuri gave me a heart!!!! i’m so happy ♥♥♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I still can’t believe the actual Viktor Nikiforov is such an embarrassing person.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> But you like me anyway, yes?? ))
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Of course I do.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> !!!!! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> I’m going back to work, ttyl.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> OK!!! i will patiently await your next text, yuuri ♥
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> Please don’t wait for so long that your coach gets angry with you, Viktor.
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> I’m not making any promises, but i’ll try my best! just for you )))
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri** **♥♥♥** **:**
> 
> :)
> 
> **v-nikiforov:**
> 
> ))) ♥

 

_Ah_ , Viktor thinks, sighing as he locks his phone and presses it to his chest, right on top of where he feels his heart is. _I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy._

* * *

 

On another side of the rink, Yuri wrinkles his nose in disgust at the sight of Viktor sighing and smiling soppily down at his phone. “What’s wrong with Vitya?” he asks, not bothering to face Mila as he glares at Viktor from a distance. “He looks _disgusting_.”

“He’s in love, obviously,” Mila sighs, amused smile on her face when Yuri turns to look at her in disbelief. “What, Yura? Is it so surprising that our Vitya can fall in love?”

“He’s had his lovers before,” Yuri grumbles, folding his arms over his chest as he stares squinty-eyed at where Viktor is already starting to warm-up for skating. “He’s never been this gross. Are you sure?”

“Has he been in love before, though,” Mila says, confusing Yuri further when she regards him with a knowing smile. “He may have had his past lovers, but I don’t think they were what he really needed, or wanted.”

Yuri huffs. “What’s the difference, anyway?”

“Well, for one,” Mila points out, index finger popping up from her closed fist, “Vitya is so much happier, so much more motivated nowadays. He may have been good as he was, but he really does well in portraying _Eros_ now that he’s texting Yuuri.”

Yuri freezes, hand squeezing on the rink side barrier as he slowly looks up at Mila. “ _What?_ ” he enunciates, slow and disbelieving.

Mila smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she leans over the rink side barrier to look right into his eyes. She says in a purr, “He’s texting Yuuri. The doctor, remember? The one with the same name as you?”

Like a gunshot in a quiet room, Yuri shrieks,

“ _What?!_ ”

Viktor doesn’t even stumble at the sound, too lost in his thoughts to notice anything (or anyone) else as he skates.

This does not deter Yuri, who makes his way to Viktor’s side of the rink with a speed that would have Yakov concerned- which he _is_ , going by the yelling that bursts out from the side of the room that he’s just left Mila at. “ _Viktor!_ ” he yells, fuming further when Viktor only greets him with a cheery smile, “Are you seriously texting katsudon?!”

Viktor blinks, confused enough that he actually pauses in his skating. “Katsoo-don?” he asks, head cocked to one side in confusion.

“The physician!” Yuri snarls, nose wrinkling in distaste when Viktor immediately adopts a love-struck look on his face. “What the hell, Vitya! Of all people!”

Viktor makes a confused sound at his anger. “Why? What’s wrong with texting Yuuri?” he asks, as if he _doesn’t know_ how bad he can get when he strings people along. Yuri has never particularly cared what Viktor did with his life, be it in romance or anything else, but this-

he actually _likes_ the doctor, and he really doesn’t want Viktor to break his heart, unintentional or not.

(It’s not often that people like Yuri, after all, brash and loud that he is. Katsudon (nickname given ever since Yuuri had offered him one of his _delicious_ home-cooked meals) was one of those rare people, having seen through Yuri’s tough façade to know that he was just what he was:

a teenager, with a lot of frustration against a world that only saw him as a pretty, petite thing.)

“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing,” he hisses, poking a finger into Viktor’s chest. “I don’t care if you flirt with other people, but don’t mess around with the doctor that actually looks after us whenever we’re injured!”

“I’m not messing around, Yura,” Viktor says, soft smile replacing the confused expression on his face as he pats Yuri’s wrist. The gentle touch gets him a snarl-like sound from Yuri, which does nothing to discourage him as he says, “Yuuri is my friend. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

“Are you sure that that’s _all_ you want? Him as a friend?” Yuri asks, disbelieving.

“Well, I’d like to have more with him, but-”

“No!” Yuri says, waving a hand in frustrated dismay as he tries to get Viktor to see his point. “You do _not_ flirt with the doctor that helps us out whenever we hurt ourselves! Are you _insane_ , Vitya?! That’s self-sabotage! When you hurt his feelings-”

“ _I wouldn’t_ ,” Viktor barks, loudly enough that the noise of the entire room dwindles into silence. Yuri himself is frozen, shocked at the outburst from the older man. Had it been coming from Yakov, he’d have expected it- but Viktor has never been the type to use shouting whenever he’s conversing or frustrated with someone.

What was so different that has Viktor reacting like this, just because of a single, seemingly uninteresting man?

“I wouldn’t,” Viktor repeats, softer this time, gaze turned down to the ice as he breathes out a sigh. “I’d never deliberately hurt Yuuri. I’m doing my utmost best to make sure he’s happy. I’m _trying_ , Yura. I just,” he trails into silence, fists clenched at his sides as he exhales. “I like him. I really do.”

Yuri squints at him, not entirely sure he can trust his words, but not sure either if he can doubt them. Viktor has never been like this before- vulnerable, soft, _open_. Yuri is, if he were to be honest, mildly terrified at the change in him.

_Is that what it’s like, to like someone?_

He isn’t so sure he wants to feel it, if it could make him this vulnerable.

“How can I trust that?” Yuri asks, setting his hands on his hips as he looks up at Viktor with a frown. “They’re just words. You’re a great skater, but how are you even good enough for katsudo- for _Yuuri_?”

“I ask myself the same thing, honestly,” Viktor confesses, wry smile playing on his lips as he looks away and far off into the distance. “He’s just so…I can’t describe it. He’s cute, but he when he’s angry with you you’ll really _feel_ it, and he’ll make you want to grovel even when you don’t know what you did wrong.”

Yuri makes a disgusted noise at the visual. “What the hell? Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”

Viktor laughs, and Yuri boggles at the inconsistency of his reaction. Viktor says, “He’s something, isn’t he? You can never really pinpoint the kind of person he is.”

“As far as I know, he’s a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve you messing around with him,” Yuri warns, frown barely wavering on his face as he glares at Viktor. Unspoken, but definitely there, he thinks _, You deserve better than fooling around with a guy like that, anyway._

Viktor smiles, undeniably warm and happy- happier than Yuri has ever seen him before, which is a surprise- as he says, “I know, Yura. I’ll do my best to keep him happy.”

“Whatever,” Yuri huffs, kicking at the ice. “I don’t care what you do.”

Viktor laughs, because he knows better than to take that at face value.

(It’s nice, knowing that Yuuri has people from surprising places ( _Yura_ , of all people!) looking after him.

It’s nice, being reminded that Yuuri is worth all the affection he can possibly give.)


	4. Chapter 4

For all that Yuuri appears timid due to his mien of reservation, he’s something-  _someone_ \- else entirely when he’s in physician mode. From a timid man who only ever begins conversations in the context of skating (with only a handful of times talking about anything else), to a man comfortable in his skin, ready and confident in his work as he aids whichever athlete has injured himself for the day. Viktor himself has rarely seen the transition, considering how he and his fellow skaters are generally less likely to injure themselves on the ice, but there have been unfortunate (but still  _special_ , no matter how bad it sounds) occasions in which he’s seen it firsthand.

Like now, for example.

“Give him space,” Yuuri barks, firm but not ear-cringingly loud as he gestures for people by and within the rink to give way. They acquiesce and move aside for him, a mixture of awe and sympathy written in their faces as they shoot glances at him in his confident stride and at the man lying curled up on the ice with his body braced around his reddening wrist.

Viktor, stuck in the sidelines as he watches everything, feels an odd stir within the pit of his stomach.

 _Oh, no_.

Yuuri crouches, as much as one can crouch on the ice without slipping, by the fallen skater’s side. His name is Emil, probably. Viktor isn’t entirely sure. “It’s sprained, but nothing serious,” Yuuri explains to Emil, taking the injured wrist in his careful hold and assessing it with furrowed brows. He adds, “Give it two days rest; I’ll give you ice to reduce the pain once we’re out of the rink. Can you stand?”

Emil nods with a brittle smile. He says, “I can. Good thing it’s only in the wrist, eh?”

“Lucky,” Yuuri agrees, his own smile tiny but comforting as he stands up to his full height while offering a hand to the other man. He’s careful to keep his balance as he helps Emil up, checking his body for any other injuries, before guiding him to the rink’s exit and leading him to one of the nearer chairs. It doesn’t take long before he has ice on hand to hand over to Emil, who’s smiling wryly as he gently sets it over his bruised wrist.

“How bad is it?” Yuuri asks, gentle fingers prodding at the sprained wrist, to which Emil offers a wince in reply. “Do you need painkillers?”

“Not so much, no,” Emil replies, smile pained but grateful as Yuuri releases his wrist. “I don’t much like painkillers either, so I’d rather not.”

“I’ll be bandaging it later then, to minimize the damage,” Yuuri offers, smiling when Emil nods in answer. “Just keep it iced for now, then call for me once the pain has subsided a bit, okay? I’ll be nearby.”

Viktor whistles once Yuuri’s done speaking, effectively catching his attention and getting those beautiful brown eyes looking back at him. “That was admirable, how quick you are to respond,” he compliments, smiling brightly when Yuuri sucks in a little breath in response. “So cute, too! It’s no wonder so many athletes like you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Yuuri says, tone dry as he stands up from Emil’s side. Emil pats him on the wrist with a short “thanks!” and Yuuri gives him a smile back, before turning to Viktor with an amused smile. “I’m just doing my job, anyway. I wouldn’t be very effective as a sports physician if I couldn’t respond quickly enough.”

“When you get serious, though,” Viktor interrupts, head cocked to one side as he gives Yuuri a once-over, “it’s very…comforting, I suppose? It’s nice to be reminded that your cute face isn’t reason to doubt your work as a doctor.”

“I’m not cute,” Yuuri protests, to which Emil and a couple of other nearby skaters laugh. He flushes pink at the sudden attention, embarrassment visible in his furrowed brows as he gives a little peek at everyone around him.

Chris, having noticed Yuuri’s gaze passing over him, perks up. He gives a wink, to which Yuuri squeaks, before saying, “It’s cute that you don’t think you’re cute, Yuuri.” He saunters from his place at the rink side to get closer, saying still, “You’re so modest! It’s refreshing, given the general aura people have around here.”

“I’m not- I’m not trying to be modest,” Yuuri complains, tone subdued as he slips his hands into his coat’s pockets. He looks up at Viktor now, the frown on his face practically screaming,  _I can’t believe I’m having this conversation because of you!_ Then he says, “And you don’t have to tease me about it. I know I’m not as- as attractive as either of you are,” he pauses to scrunch his nose up at the bright smiles on his and Chris’s faces, “but you don’t have to rub it in.”

“I wouldn’t be against rubbing it in just to prove my point, if you know what I mean,” Chris purrs, smile wide and teasing as he comes uncomfortably closer. Viktor smiles despite the protectiveness bubbling up in his chest, and casually wraps his arm around Yuuri’s waist before Chris can so much as get a touch in. Yuuri surprisingly doesn’t react to the touch, perhaps even leaning in a little bit, and Viktor feels a kind of lightness in his chest that, somehow, closely resembles the feeling of his first gold-win.

It doesn’t distract him from noticing the odd look Chris is sending his way, though. And it’s understandable, since Viktor has never been the type for physical closeness with anyone who isn’t a close friend or family, as Chris can attest to.

Viktor gives Yuuri a fond (and, perhaps, yearning) look before directing a pout Chris’s way, which somehow gives Chris an idea of what he’s feeling when his eyes alight with acknowledgment. Chris says, smile bright and knowing, “But, it doesn’t seem like you’d be very much interested in that, when you have Viktor.”

“Um.” Yuuri blinks, brows furrowing in confusion as he tries to comprehend the subtext in Chris’s words. “I. What?”

“You’re sweet,” Chris says instead of actually explaining anything, smile teasing but fond as he props his hands on his hips. “I’ve always figured that Viktor would be taken with you.”

“Um?!” Yuuri sputters, blinking wide-eyed and confused at Chris, Viktor, and then at Chris again. “He doesn’t- we’re just- we’re just friends!”

“Ah, you wound me, Yuuri,” Viktor says, tone playing at mourning as he nuzzles his cheek onto the crown of Yuuri’s head. “Are you saying you don’t like me since we’re “just friends”? Is it not possible to like someone anymore, because they’re friends?”

“I- wh- that’s not what I meant!” Yuuri cries, clearly flustered as he tries and fails to pull away from Viktor’s hold. “Viktor!” he huffs after a while, giving up temporarily on being released from the half-embrace. The frustration is bright in his eyes when he squints at Viktor, saying with a moue, “You’re just  _teasing_  me now.”

“Ah, but you’re too cute not to tease,” Viktor coos, before yelping in complaint when Yuuri pokes him in the side. “Yuuri!”

“You’re lucky I’m a fan,” Yuuri says, lips pursed in fond exasperation as he settles back into Viktor’s arm wound around him.

“Just a fan?” Viktor says, pouting as he nudges Yuuri by the hip. “Is that all we are, now? A skater and his fan? We’ve already been texting so much, and we go out to eat lunch, but-”

“You’re so dramatic,” Yuuri sighs, bumping his temple into Viktor’s cheek (and  _oh_ , Viktor has never melted so fast just from a touch). “We’re...friends, I guess.”

Chris laughs. Viktor makes a tiny, wounded sound. “You  _guess?_ ” Viktor says, eyes wide with mock sadness.

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri huffs, squinting at him.

Viktor pouts, but sighs and accepts Yuuri’s tentative answer. “Fine, fine. I accept your offer of friendship.” He laughs when Yuuri nudges him in the side again, but immediately comes to a full-body halt when he hears the telltale  _click_  of a camera being used.

“ _Phichit!_ ” Yuuri yelps, twisting to get out of Viktor’s hold as he shoots a scandalized look at the tan-skinned man to their right, who Viktor notices as shamelessly holding up his phone and clicking away for multiple photos. “What are you doing?!” Yuuri shrieks, hands flailing as he tries and fails to grab at the other man’s phone.

“Oh, just saving some photos for posterity,” Phichit (who Viktor recognizes as one of his fellow competitors, and Yuuri’s best friend who  _never fails_  to supply him with photos of Yuuri on Instagram) replies, smiling cheerily at them as he finally lowers his phone without ever letting it go. “You two are so cute, though!”

“Right?” he says before Yuuri can say anything, his own smile wide and eager as he takes Yuuri back into his arms. Yuuri squeaks but doesn’t try to escape this time, looking far too bewildered to even try as he moves his scandalized look from Phichit to him. “I’m so glad you think so!”

“Viktor!” Yuuri scolds, though it doesn’t have much of an effect when his frown is small, faltering thing. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Too late,” Chris hums, smiling in amusement as he wanders over to Phichit’s side, eyes going bright as he leans in to look at the photos Phichit has collected. “As expected from a loyal Instagram user, you’ve got a good eye for angles.”

Phichit brightens up all too quickly at that. He says, “I’m glad you noticed!”

“ _Phichit_ ,” Yuuri whines, voice a shaky, tiny thing as he purses his lips together in concern. He may think he looks disapproving, but honestly? Viktor thinks he just looks even cuter. “Did you post those online?” he asks, brows furrowed in a show of distress.

“Of course!” Phichit says, either deliberately or unknowingly contributing to Yuuri’s red-faced shame, “I don’t think you understand the number of followers I can grab just from a small update on Viktor Nikiforov’s love life, Yuuri. And the notifications! My IG is exploding as we speak!”

“ _Love_ \- we’re not like that!” Yuuri immediately complains, and Viktor, for all his desire to have Yuuri as his, can only manage a sigh in mild disappointment. Much as he’d like to be with Yuuri in a romantic context, he wouldn't force it if Yuuri didn’t want him like that. He could respect that- or, at the very least-  _try_  to.

It doesn’t make him feel any less terrible, though.

“Am I not good enough?” he mutters, going limp as he leans most of his weight into Yuuri. Yuuri, confused, can only hold him up wordlessly in response. “Am I not attractive enough for you, Yuuri? It’s because of my hair, isn’t it. You think my hair is thinning- don’t think I didn’t notice you staring earlier- and that’s why-”

“No! I told you your hair is fine,” Yuuri swiftly interrupts, eyebrows high on his forehead as he regards Viktor with incredulity. “And it’s not that you’re unattractive, or anything,” Yuuri says, pink spreading on his cheeks as he turns his gaze away and to the floor, “it’s just- you’re way out of my league. I don’t want people to think that you’re with me, because you can do better.”

All at once, with Chris and Phichit’s voices backing him up, he says, “ _Yuuri._ ”

Yuuri jerks at the three voices calling his name. “What?”

“As your best friend, I can believe that you actually  _do_  think that about yourself,” Phichit says, frowning. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. You’re really oblivious, you know that? You probably don’t even know how many people have hit on you so far just from this past two weeks alone!”

“What?!” Yuuri asks, bewildered.

Phichit laughs, says, “I knew it! You didn’t even notice!”

“Wh- you must have been seeing things,” Yuuri insists, unshakable in his certainty as he wrinkles his nose at the very  _idea_  of being hit on. “I’m not that inexperienced with flirting-” or _not_ , Viktor thinks with wide, interested eyes, “-so you need to stop insisting that anyone doing anything nice for me means something with it.”

Phichit snorts in his open disbelief at Yuuri’s argument. He retorts, “Yuuri, you wouldn’t know flirting if it came up to you and asked you out on a date.”

Yuuri turns a bright red at the retort. Viktor blinks down at him, wondering what the embarrassed reaction is for, until Yuuri answers it with, “How was I supposed to know that they didn’t mean it as a friendly date?! I didn’t even know they were bi!”

Phichit laughs. Viktor stares wide-eyed and wonderingly at Yuuri, because _wow_. To think that someone in their early twenties could be so oblivious in such a cute way- even if it _does_ make the other party suffer in turn. Viktor shouldn’t even find it cute, considering how he’s one of those people suffering from Yuuri’s obliviousness, but it’s _Yuuri_.

How can he not?   

“If we’re going to call for a vote on how attractive you are, I’m not ashamed to say that I find you attractive too,” Chris offers, smiling brightly despite the way Viktor raises his eyebrow at him. “I’d ask you out- I’ve tried  _before_ , if you even noticed that- if someone weren’t clinging to you so tightly right now.”

“Chris?!” Yuuri gawps, twitching full-bodied in Viktor’s hold. Viktor doesn’t dare to let him go, knowing better than to let Yuuri run away  _now_  after all the times he’s done it before.

And, well. Much as it’s unnatural for him, there’s an instinctive feeling in the pit of his chest that wants to keep Yuuri close knowing that Chris is there.

 _Especially_  considering the conversation he’s had with the man a few nights before.

 

_“You got taken in!” Chris cried, laughter pouring out of his mouth in loud waves as he flaps a hand in Viktor’s direction. “You got taken in by the doctor even after I warned you! That’s- that’s beautiful, Viktor. Here I thought it wouldn’t be so easy, but-”_

_“He’s just so cute, though,” Viktor groans, head in his hands as he whines at his unfortunate first meeting with the man. “And so sweet! You didn’t warn me that he’d be so sweet!”_

_“I told you that he was dangerous,” Chris says, wiping at the laughter-induced tears brimming in his eyes. “Don’t you know, Viktor? It’s the sweet ones you have to look out for. You never even realize you’ve been taken in until it’s already done. He has such a nice ass too. And don’t even get me started on his thighs!”_

_“Don’t remind me,” Viktor whines, falling back onto Chris’s bed as he wiggles in place. “I didn’t even get taken in because of his face! I wasn’t- he just-”_

_“You are so gone, my friend,” Chris says, laughing harder when all Viktor does is kick out at him._

That had been a nice, friendly moment between the two of them, which also served as a good reminder that Viktor wasn’t alone in finding Yuuri attractive.

No one could blame him for being a little protective, right?

Viktor squeezes a hand over Yuuri’s shoulder in comfort, offering Yuuri a smile when the man looks up at him. “I haven’t been reserved in telling you how beautiful you are, either,” he says, continuing despite the shocked look Yuuri gives him in response, “so I confess, I’m confused. What did you think I meant, when I complimented you all those times?”

“I thought you were just being nice,” Yuuri says weakly, turning away from Viktor’s gaze to look down at his clenched fists hidden within his pockets. “I thought that that’s just how you are, with your friends.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow at him, before turning his disbelieving look at Chris. Chris, like the good friend that he is, simply says in reply, “I’ve been friends with Viktor for years, but he hasn’t offered me compliments as often as he does you. His Instagram isn’t as full of pictures with me, or anyone else for that matter, either. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed that before, Yuuri.”

“So,” Yuuri begins, looking up at Viktor with disbelief bright in brown eyes, “what you’re saying is…you like me?”

Viktor smiles brightly. “Yes!”

Yuuri asks again, looking more and more dubious by the second, “And you mean that in a romantic way?”

Viktor nods vigorously, smiling widely when a flush rises through Yuuri’s cheeks. “Definitely, yes.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, dropping his gaze back to the ground. Then he takes a breath, a single inhale and exhale, before muttering another,  _“oh.”_

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks, hesitant as he raises his free hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri does nothing to pull away, even leaning into the touch with fluttering eyelids (and really, who could blame Viktor's heart for pausing in its beating at the sight of him?). He says, “Is that…not alright with you? Do you not like me back?” He swallows back a sad sound at the very thought, not wanting to pressure Yuuri into anything. The mere idea that Yuuri doesn’t like him back already hurts; he’s certain that an affirmation of it would  _destroy_  him.

Still.

He doesn’t want Yuuri to give him a chance just because he feels pressured to.

“I- I do like you!” Yuuri blurts out, before slapping both of his hands over his mouth as he stares at Viktor in shock, as though he hadn’t intended to say so. He says, sputtering, “I mean, why wouldn’t anyone? You’re amazing, and attractive, and talented, and-”

“But do you like me as I am?” Viktor asks, voice coming out in a murmur as he brushes away the strands of hair falling in Yuuri’s face. Yuuri flushes a brighter red at the affectionate gesture (or their nearness, Viktor isn't certain really), and Viktor counts it as a plus when he doesn’t flinch away. “Yuuri?”

“Of course I do,” Yuuri replies, soft and oh so  _sweet_  as he raises a hand to squeeze Viktor's own over his cheek. He looks reverent, gentle and fond, yet for all that his awe should look distant and lukewarm as it would coming from a fan, all Viktor feels is the sun making its home inside his chest. “Getting to know you has been an unending chain of surprises, and I…it makes me happy, that you’re letting me in the way that you have.  _You_  make me happy,” Yuuri says, and all Viktor can do is _melt_ , too full of warmth and ineffable things to keep himself afloat before Yuuri’s smile.

_Click._

“Phichit!” Yuuri yells, effectively breaking away from their private, warm cocoon and leaving Viktor aching to reel him in again as he pulls away to berate his friend. “Stop it!” Yuuri says, failing at firmness when his voice comes out as a whine.

“You’ll thank me for this at your wedding,” Phichit replies, to which Yuuri starts sputtering again, even as Viktor smiles a sun-bright smile at the notion of their future together.

It’s far too soon, far too fast, to even consider anything like a  _wedding_ -

but somehow, ridiculous as the idea sounds, he can't help but entertain the vision of it. A future where he isn't alone at the podium, gold heavy and suffocating around his neck; a future, where someone will stay by his side and want him for who he is, and not who they think he  _should_ be: Viktor the Five-Time GPF Gold Medalist, Viktor the Skater, Viktor alone and unreachable and lonely standing atop a podium with multiple medals hanging like weights on his chest.

It’s too much, expecting all of this from Yuuri, but going by the exasperated look on Yuuri’s face when he finds Viktor laughing at him-

maybe it’s not too far-fetched an idea, after all.


End file.
